


my eyes (they follow you)

by Haganeko (dainpdf)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Adorable couple, Different Times, F/M, Hummingbird - Freeform, Kissing, Leo is adorable, Love at First Sight, Masquerade, Potion Ingredients, Ruse Reveal, Young Leo - Freeform, but harry is too, carry shippers stay away, harry is traumatized, i guess thats a spoiler, leo is there for her, little kid Harry, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 04:27:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29254422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dainpdf/pseuds/Haganeko
Summary: Leo knew as soon as he met her that Harry was special, but it would take years of gazing before he would see the truth of her.
Relationships: Leo/Harry
Comments: 5
Kudos: 36
Collections: Rigel Black Chronicles Masquerade 2021





	my eyes (they follow you)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Pureblood Pretense](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/39096) by murkybluematter. 



> I hope,,, that everyone loves it. Carry shippers stay away!!  
> With thanks to Feathery Minx for the wonderful last-minute beta!

Leo looks around Tate’s Apothecary, seeking the ingredients he was sent to fetch. His father asked him to get his “order from Mr. Tate, will you, my boy?” and Leo, dutiful son that he is, does so without qualms. Never mind his lack of interest in brewing, he still must help around the house, and fetching a few bowtruckle legs, a couple of shrivelfigs, an asphodel flower or two and three or so cups of elder sap is the least he can do.

The shop is stuffy as always, filled with a cacosmia of various plants, animal parts, odd magical fluids and worse. It makes Leo’s magic itch, so much bound magic in so many flasks and containers. Magic is freedom, and is meant to be free, not be stuck in the shelf of some shop for days or weeks, only to be thrown into a cauldron and stoppered once more.

Will the wait for his turn ever end? Leo is unsure. The seconds stretch like unimaginable torture. He’d rather be out in the alleys, dueling, running or stealing the smile of a pretty girl. Tic k , toc k. There is no clock, but he can hear the ticking, tickling his patience. He can no longer tell how long it’s been. Except it’s only been two minutes, and he knows it. Curse his sense of time.

Something calls his eyes. His magic -- fickle thing that it is -- looks that-away, too. It is a youngling, a girl of at most ten, carrying her own basket of ingredients. He had not noticed her before, wallowing in his misery as he’d been -- plus, that really tall man had been in the way. She has clearly picked those ingredients herself, and is familiar with the store owner. Too familiar, really, for someone her age. She even corrects an elderly witch’s picks. She flits through the shop like a  hummingbird in a garden, kissing flowers and dazzling all she touches.

She makes to leave, and his gaze follows. Her magic vibrates with barely contained power and curiosity. It is a wonder he has never seen before. She passes the door, and he is left there, staring at the door for untold eons, or, at the very least, thirty seconds. And then the moment is gone. He is once more Leo, there on the Aldermaster’s business, saving the Aldermaster’s time. A pity, really. He’d much rather be Leo, gazing at that sunny bird.

Leo -- King Leo, if you please -- walks down a familiar alley of his domain with the self-assurance reserved for fools and kings. He passes unseen and unheard, except for his most perceptive subjects, who pay him a nod or another sign of obeisance. Some might say a few of those are sarcastic or unmeant, but Leo knows better. After all, who among his adoring people would not pay him respect? Plenty, but they don’t count.

A tickle in his magic alerts him: something tricky is afoot. It takes his expert eyes only a moment to spot what is out of place -- or rather, who. A young boy, around ten by his looks, has just left the Serpent’s Storeroom, clearly unused to the alleys. He passes like a caterpillar, slow and careless of the various birds eyeing him as their prize.

Not on Leo’s watch. His wings are wide, and their shadow is long. He will take this boy under them, keep the caterpillar until he becomes a... Leo would say a butterfly, but the term doesn’t seem right. A hummingbird, something in him supplies, and he wonders whether he has finally been driven mad by the pressures of his position. But Leo has had hunches before, and he has learned to trust them. He follows the little caterpillar with his eyes, signing to his people he is to be left alone. This one is mine, Leo’s hands say, but his eyes  follow the boy.

Before he knows it, his legs are following, too.

Leo eyes the transmission. He owes Harry taking care of her cousin. Even if he was pureblood all over, all fox in their bird’s nest when he visited.  Even if he was o ut of place  among Leo’s people . Because he is Harry’s family, and so he is Leo’s family, too.

And his magic itches like never before. Something is up. A larger trick, pretense, subterfuge, artifice, façade, Leo has never felt. Someone -- various someones, most likely, really -- is up to their necks in lies and masquerades; Leo bets it has to do with the Black heir. The kid has a talent for landing himself in trouble. Or he seeks it, Leo concedes, but that seemed more up Harry’s alley.

Leo watches the mirrors; his gaze never leaves Rigel Black. And as he watches a duel, familiar moves in familiar pose, dread starts to fill him. He witnesses the decisions.  He looks at the wand he has disarmed so many times, almost as familiar as his own. A style he knows like the back of his hand. It can’t be.

And then she has grabbed the cup and all is chaos. Leo’s eyes follow everything like he is underwater, his body for once slow and ungainly. Himself, for once, powerless. His heart hammering at his throat. But he can’t panic. Leo is a King. There is power in that word. He composes himself; rebuilds himself from the core outward, and a second later he is the Rogue once more.

Leo organizes his people: they must wait for the best moment, for the opening that will allow them to act. Meanwhile, he eyes her, and there is agony in his chest; lead in his lungs. Preparations are made: in the alleys and at Hogwarts, all is ready.

He knows the moment she escapes, the moment she confirms what he knew the eternity of half an hour ago. His people need no signal; the distraction is launched. Leo walks with purpose. He has a room to reach. A bird’s nest to furnish, awaiting her migration south. How little does he know how true this is.

Leo is there when she lands a raven and a witch in one brave flask. He spots her in the distance and knows before knowing that it is her. He looks over the place; witnesses have been informed, alibis forged; all is prepared. She has barely turned back from her animagus form and Leo is on her, hugging and supporting her. “Welcome home, hummingbird.”

She cries, and Leo ruffles her hair. He reassures her; everything is safe; she is safe.

She kisses him.

His world melts.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope everyone loved it!!!!


End file.
